


On the Road, Again

by laurie_ky



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-17
Updated: 2010-01-17
Packaged: 2019-06-13 04:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15355893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurie_ky/pseuds/laurie_ky
Summary: A followup scene to the episodeCrossroad. It's a long, damn ride from Clayton Falls to Cascade, and Blair engages in some speculation concerning his roommate, Jim Ellison, and Police Captain Simon Banks.  Sequel toSandburg, the Computer Savvy Saviour.





	On the Road, Again

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Elaine, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Artifact Storage Room 3](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Artifact_Storage_Room_3) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Artifact Storage Room 3’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/artifactstorageroom3/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for Sentinel Thursday and beta'ed by T. Verano. This story is a sequel to _Sandburg, the Computer Savvy Saviour._

****On the Road Again.****  
  
Well, I made my decision when the pretty veterinarian offered to go fishing with Jim. No way was I hanging around to watch Jim go through his pre-mating rituals. I’m thinking, it will probably be just a fling. A fling and a fuck, and Jim will be back in a few days. This -  time -  with Linda probably won't evolve into anything like a relationship.  
  
Probably.  
  
"I finally shook them," Jim said, as Simon walked with me towards his car. _I heard that,_ _Jim old buddy_.  That's kind of a low blow, considering the conversation we'd had this morning when Simon and I woke him up. My partner said he wanted me to stay with him and not move out.  Had Jim been telling the truth - or had he just been kind?  Man, I need to process and move on.  Think I'll borrow Naomi's favorite mantra. Jim, this is for you: I'm letting this go... I'm letting this go... I'm letting this go... I'm letting this - Ow.  Simon just smacked my arm.   
  
"Sandburg."  Simon sounded exasperated. "Have I got your attention now?"   
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Once again, do you have all your stuff in the car?  Because I'd like to get on the road. If we go back to Cascade tonight it'll be late when I drop you off. Or we could stop along the way, set up camp and go fishing in the morning.  If our luck is good, maybe stay another day or two.  We can decide when we get to the exit for _my_ secret fishing spot."   
  
Simon was looking at me expectantly.  Now, umm, what did he ask me? I concentrated and answered him.  
  
"Ah, you know, I never actually got my things out of your car this morning.  And whatever you want to do is fine with me."   
  
I can't stay here.  I'd really like to be home and in my bed; but this is Simon's vacation and it's wrong to ask him to give it up.  We might as well hang out. Simon's been cool with me lately. He even treated me to lunch a couple of times this week when Jim was tied up in court. Jim grumbled about missing out on eating with us and I wish he could have come, too; but it was fun to spend time with Simon.  Even messing up Simon's computer didn't really piss him off, which was a great relief to me.  
  
Uh-oh. Here we go again. These cramps make me feel pretty lousy, but there's no need for Simon to know about that.  I'm sure my head and stomach will feel better soon.   
  
* * * * * * * * * *      
  
Einstein said that time is relative. That must be true; because, while Simon tells me he's making good driving time, to me, time's going by verrrry slowly.  I feel tired and restless, and I'd love to get out but there's nowhere to go. I feel trapped in this car.  Simon's already told me to stop squirming in my seat. Makes me feel about six years old. Hell, sometimes I wonder if Simon even sees me as an adult?  An adult with needs.  An adult with sexual needs.    
  
Does he know that I want Jim?  That I'd like to suck and fuck and stroke and lick my roommate?  Jim told me Simon did a background check and asked around at Rainer about me when I started as an observer. I wonder what he found out?  Was he told that I'm bisexual?  Is he okay with me having sex with men?  He's never said anything to me about it or discussed the rumors that Jim and I are lovers.  
  
If Simon asks me, I'll tell him the truth. And the truth is that I don't know what the hell I'm doing with Jim Ellison. I think he loves me but I don't know if he wants to _make_ love to me. He confuses me.  He's my best friend, and he must know I'm attracted to him.  On a biological level, he can smell my pheromones.  Hmm, maybe even taste them on the air? Have to table that little experiment for now. Jim's tired of being my research subject.  
  
What about Simon?  Does he ever sleep with men?  He's good-looking. Strong. His air of command can be pretty hot, too.  Does he ever think about me sexually?  And why I am thinking about all this sex stuff anyway?  God, I'm not just in the Sandburg Zone, I'm stuck in the Sandburg Zone Maze; where my thoughts are like crazed lab rats that can't find the exit.   
  
Also, I'd seriously like to be feeling better.  I'm ready for the cramps and headache to settle down.  And man, I wish I could just chill out and stop thinking about Jim.  Maybe I need a distraction from my thoughts and aches and pains. Ah, just the ticket ...let's see now -  
  
"Sandburg, hands off the radio. I don't like it on when I'm driving."  
  
Well, shoot. And I can't concentrate on reading right now, either; there's a good chance it would make me barf, trying to follow the words. Still, I've got to try and focus on something, or my mind will go right back down that slippery slope into the maze.  
  
"So, the people who were poisoned, think they'll have to stay at the hospital?"  
  
Simon looked at me, hard, before he answered.  "Blair, don't you remember what the EMTs told you?"  
  
Ahh, that would be a no, because I didn't actually talk to the EMTs.  
  
Simon blew out his breath and answered his own question. "No. You don't know, do you?  You disobeyed my order to get checked out, didn't you?"  
  
"Simon, I didn't see the point. I felt well enough to run through the woods and the town. Now I know adrenaline helped me to do all that physical exertion; but when it's exhausted you feel drained and queasy. So, I bought some chamomile to settle my stomach at that little store. The guy who runs it had a good stock of medicinal teas."  
  
"You bought some tea. Did you drink the tea?"  Simon narrowed his eyes at me.  
  
"Um, kind of."  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
"I drank it but,  I couldn't keep it down," I confessed.   
  
Simon frowned at me.  
  
"Blair, the folks like you who had a toxic reaction to the water were given medication to help ease their cramps and headaches.  Most of them were feeling a little better when the EMTs saw them because of the medication given earlier by the false army doctors. Those folks weren't expecting to have to stay at the hospital, just to stay in the ER for observation a couple of hours. Jim and I thought you'd been given the second dose of meds, along with the other victims."  
  
I didn't say anything. I had a feeling the pit I was in was about to get deeper. Besides, it's hard to make the words come out right when you feel lousy.  
  
Simon frowned even harder at me.  
  
"Blair Sandburg, you look at me right now and tell me the truth!  Were you given medication at all today?"  
  
"Nooo, well, I was given it by those fake army guys, but when they weren't looking I put it back."  
  
"How are you feeling now?"  Simon had a look on his face that was screaming, 'Danger, Will Robinson, danger!'  Unfortunately, my mouth and my brain were working independently of each other, and I answered him before my brain could shut up my mouth.  
  
"Fine, Simon, I feel fine."  
  
"'Fine' is what you said when you were sick and went in the storage room looking for a radio.  'Fine' is what Jim told me you answered right before you collapsed.  That the brand of 'fine' we dealing with here?  The kind that ends up with you on a stretcher?"  
  
I opened my mouth but couldn't think what to say.  
  
Simon was on a roll. "When did you eat today? Breakfast never happened. If you couldn't keep down tea, I doubt you managed anything else.  You were supposed to sleep for a couple of hours before we left Cascade last night. Did you do it?  You never woke me for my driving shift, so I know you didn't get any sleep on the road."  
  
Busted.  
  
"I didn't eat, and I had stuff to finish before I left with you."  
  
"Did you sleep in the medical tent?" Simon glanced over at me intently. It made me want to squirm again; but, I was trying to ditch any impression he had of me acting like a six year old, so, I just slumped down in my seat.  
  
"I was trying to eavesdrop on the fake soldiers, but I did doze off a few times."  
  
"Jesus wept.  Since you won't tell me how you're doing, I'll tell you: you're pale, glassy eyed, and tired-looking.  You've got a bellyache and your head hurts, right? And we have to consider dehydration."  He reached over and pinched the back of my hand, then reached up and felt my forehead and cupped my cheek. "You feel clammy, too.  
  
"You need liquids. We're stopping at a store so you can drink and eat something. Until we get there, try and sleep."  
  
"Okay."  It was nice not having to pretend I felt good. I bunched up an extra shirt for a pillow, closed my eyes and leaned my head against the door.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Simon brought me out a bottle of water, a Sprite and crackers with peanut butter from the gas station.  I'd rested in the car, but I hadn't been able to fall asleep. Stupid brain wouldn't stop playing back conversations Jim and I have had since I've known him. A possible theory was forming in the back of my mind; it would bother me till I figured it out.   
  
My captain stirred the Sprite around in a cup before handing it to me while I sat at the picnic table. He waited while I sipped it, drank some water and munched on the food. Then he handed me two aspirin. When I swallowed them, he patted me on the back and went back in the gas station.  When he came out, it was to find me throwing up in the weedy field next to the parking lot picnic area. He helped me up and gave me water to rinse my mouth, then started in on taking me to the ER.  
  
"Simon, please, just give it a couple of hours. This will wear off and I'll be -"  
  
"Sandburg, if you say 'fine,' I won't be responsible for my actions."  
  
"I don't want to go to the ER. I'm still paying on old bills, and I don't need medical care."  
  
He reached over and felt my face again and pinched my skin.  
  
"You've got two hours. If you can't keep down liquids the next time we stop, then you _will_ be seeing a doctor."  
  
"What about camping at your fishing spot?"  
  
"Never you mind about that.  You'll have to prove to me you're recovered before I let you go camping with me. It's not important if we don't go today."  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
The ride up to Clayton Falls didn't take this long. The way back just keeps continuing to be a time/relativity fuck-up.  
  
I'd like to sleep, but my head is beating a drum pattern in time with the clenching of my stomach muscles. And my brain keeps going back over what Jim said yesterday in Simon's office. It's annoying, the way I feel I'm missing something. Something important.   
  
He'd said my fishing fly looked like one of my dates, orange-eyed with hairy legs. Yeah, it was funny. Jim often makes jokes about my love life. Called me a table leg more times than I can remember. And what about when I try to make time with a pretty lady? Soon as I start he yanks me over close to him. Down, boy, he tells me, making it into a joke. And there was the time we went to the Jags practice together; Jim told me to "behave" when I said I wanted to check the cheerleaders out. Then he grabbed me by my shirt  and moved me right next to him, and kept me by him during our visit.   
  
Jim is showing dominance displays towards me. I did know that, but I thought it was about the alpha male pecking order, trying to reserve available females for himself by pushing the younger male away.   
  
Boy, Jim would have a cow if he could hear me thinking this stuff. But research in primate studies _can_ give us insights into our own human behavior.   
  
Anyway, I think I got it wrong. I think that he is claiming me in an instinctual sexual behavior. But instinct only takes him so far and then he drops the ball. It would explain why I have always gotten cold and hot messages from him when it comes to our being together.  
  
The jokes are important, too. Um, Freud thought that jokes were an indicator of repressed sexual desires and aggression.  So, based on this premise, Jim's making fun of my love life could be confirmation he wants me. And he cracked a joke about Simon and me lounging in an adult chat room.  Interesting that he included Simon with me in a sexually based joke. Usually he shows Simon more deference than that. If I go with the idea that Jim's long history of jokes towards me is based on sexual attraction...then the joke with Simon and me, which was atypical, shows that Jim was putting us together in a sexual way. Have to watch Jim for other observations to support my theory.  
  
Of course, I could end all this speculation by cornering Jim and telling him I love him and want to have sex with him.  So why don't I take that risk?  Why don't I just do it and lay my cards on the table?  
  
It's a risk all right because he might not be ready to accept his subconscious desires. He never has talked to me about his preferences in bed. For all I know, he's never had a male lover.  If I jump his bones, he might just kick my ass right out of the loft.  
  
And maybe I don't want to jinx up what I've got with Jim.  I don't have the best track record with relationships. A friend once told me I was a moth to the flame kind of guy. "Blair, honey," she told me, "you flutter around for a while getting close to love, then you back off. One of these days you're going to have to finally fly into that flame." I told her I didn't want to be a dead moth. She gave my head a thump and told me the moth's death was symbolic of rebirth into real love. Then we cracked up at her philosophizing and got even drunker together. She was right, though; I do back off from committing to a love relationship. I've been told _that_ plenty of times.  So, could I commit to Jim, or would I feel that pressure to fly away again?  
  
I don't know.  
  
Jim probably doesn't know if I could do it, either.  He's been so hurt by others who've abandoned him that I understand why he wouldn't want to take a chance.  
  
Still, a guy's got needs; and if Jim won't make a move, then maybe I should find a stand-in.  Someone who will soothe me physically but not ask for anything but friendship.   
  
Simon is seriously hot.  Simon's become a friend. Simon makes me feel safe.  Simon's hand on my face today felt soothing. Simon ...might hate the idea of sex with me.  
  
God, I'm tired of thinking.   
  
"Are we there yet, Simon?"  
  
"Be real soon, Blair."  
  
Oh, mouth and brain, when will you ever work together?  I sound like that six year old again.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Blair,you are _going_ to see a doctor if I have to toss your ass in a hospital bed myself."  
  
"Why don't we just keep driving instead?"  
  
"Because you not only vomited again, you fainted too, you idiot.  We're going to the Urgent Care clinic. It's down this road, according to the kid at the Shell station. And I'll pay for it."  
  
"You shouldn't have to pay for my medical bills. I'll do some creative bookkeeping and finagle the money somehow."  
  
Simon looked over at me as he drove down the road. It was his 'I'm the captain' look.  Man, I'm too wiped out to argue anymore, I give in. I'm tired of feeling like shit and maybe the doctor has something that can help.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
We're done at the clinic. I'm so ready to be horizontal.  
  
And, oh boy, am I ever feeling loopy now.  I can't remember what Dr. Mary-something said was in that shot she gave me, but it's kicking my butt.                                                                                                                                                                                                               
Simon told her about our little adventures today. She said it was all over the news.  Simon told her about the poison that was given to me and the other victims, so she made a call to the hospital near Clayton Falls and talked to the docs up there. She told us that I probably felt better when Jim came to get me out of that tent, because I had been lying down and resting for a while. Exerting myself chasing bad guys should not have been on the agenda and now I was paying for it. The vomiting, lack of liquids, no food and no sleep made the cramping and headache worse. She said I most likely fainted due to low blood sugar and exhaustion. We waited after the shot to see if I had a reaction, then she told Simon to take me home, feed me something light and put me to bed.    
  
Simon kept his arm around me when we left the clinic. Said he didn't trust me to not do another header towards the ground. He tucked me up in the car with a blanket, and said I could try and drink a few sips of water when the cramps died down. I closed my eyes and waited for that drum beat in my head to go away, as Simon headed the car back towards Cascade.  


* * * * * * * * * *

  
_...On the road again I just can't wait to get on the road again,..._  
  
"Blair, stop humming Willie Nelson and try and go to sleep. Even the Energizer Bunny needs to recharge his batteries and it'll be a while before we're back in Cascade."  
  
Okay.  
  
"Simon, it was nice of you to pay the doctor. If you like, you can take it out in trade."  
  
"Sure, Blair. We'll talk about it tomorrow. Now close your eyes, and stop talking."  
  
"Okay."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
When I woke up I was in Simon's house and he was putting a bowl of soup in front of me. I must have sleepwalked, 'cause I have no memory of how I got in here.  
  
The chicken noodle soup was good and salty and so mainstream that I wanted to laugh.  
I didn't, though; I was too busy feeding my face. Afterwards, Simon pointed me towards Daryl's bedroom and told me to hush up, when I apologized for not fishing with him. Said we'll go another day and for the love of god, just go to bed. So I did.  
  
In the morning I felt fine.  
  
Honestly.   
  
I can hear Simon on the phone when I approach the kitchen. Ahh, he's talking to Jim. He's telling Jim about our god-awful drive back home yesterday. Said I was too quiet and listless in the car, so he knew something was wrong. Crap, he's ratting me out about barfing and fainting.  Telling Jim things are under control, that I'm at his house and no, Jim does not need to come home. ...telling him to stay and fish, relax. Said he's keeping an eye on me.  He's calling me a kid who needs help sometimes, but is too stubborn to admit it. Telling him that yesterday, I offered to let him 'take it out in trade' in exchange for paying the doctor bill.   
  
Oops.  
  
Simon is holding the phone away from his ear so Jim must be yelling at him. Simon is telling him to simmer down. He needs the kitchen repainted and he's going to have me help him if I feel better today." No," he's telling Jim," you can't help. Blair would never allow you near paint fumes."  
  
Jim's heard me joking before about 'taking it out in trade.'  I guess Simon doesn't know it's shorthand for repaying a friend for helping you by having sex with them. Maybe it's just a college student stupid flirting kind of thing. Or else, maybe he's ignoring my little offer.

  
Simon's telling Jim that he helped me like he hoped somebody would help Daryl if his son were sick.  He said I need a keeper sometimes and last night he elected himself for the position.    
  
Guess my half-assed pass at Simon fell flat. Looks like he does see me as a kid. And Simon would never have sex with a kid. Oh, well. It probably was not the brightest of ideas anyway, since he is my boss at the station.  
  
Jim though, he must be itching to get his hands on me and yank me away from Simon, if he's thinking Simon might be competition with him. Bet he's not thinking about Linda, his fishing partner for the week, now.  
  
Karma, Blair.  
  
I should take the phone and put him out of his misery.  
  
"Hi, Simon, I'm good this morning.  Let me talk to my partner.  
  
"Jim, I'm fine. I'm happy to just help Simon with any chores around the house, and I want you to finish your vacation. It's all right to want a break. I'll be around and we can go fishing together whenever you're ready, okay?  Here's Simon again."  
  
Fishing together or sex together or some combination would be great. I'm leaving it up to Jim to decide, though.  But for today, Simon and I will hang out, and I'll help paint his kitchen in trade for him helping me last night.  
  
And ‘all will be fine, and all will be fine and all manner of things will be fine.’

 

The End


End file.
